Rochester, New York, 1970

The town was dreadfully quiet, painfully so as the late hours of the night crept steadily on, but the whispered argument of their average home caused her ears to ring and her voice to growing hoarse as though she had been screaming to the heavens.

It was like drowning all over again with limbs that seized, betraying her, and lungs that protested each and every breath.

She couldn't remember ever quite feeling this way, not as she did now as though her heart had shattered in her chest, the pieces crumbling until they were only an indistinguishable mess that was everything she was and everything she could be.

Estelle had felt the pangs of heartbreak once before, only once, two years earlier, in a southern village by a country boy that promised her the moon and the sun. The kind of striking boy that brought her pretty flowers and called her sweet names, who wasn't afraid to whisper kind words in her ear. She felt as if she could have married him, could have left behind her to never see her again if it meant she could always love this boy.

He said he was going to marry her. He said he was going to marry a lot of girls.

The day she had seen him, pressed up against a girl with flushed cheeks hidden behind smears of dirt purposely left behind by the trail of her fingers, Estelle had thought she was drowning, hallucinating a world that didn't truly exist, living a burning nightmare.

Maman found her curled up against their secret tree hours later, sobbing into her knees with eyes too sore to produce any more tears.

This still didn't hurt as much as the vacant look in her maman's eyes when she said that they were leaving her.

Leaving her because it was Estelle's turn to live her life truly instead of chasing shadows behind her mama and uncle. Estelle was terrible enough to know that she would never allow that much to happen. 

When the letter had come in addressed to her, requesting the presence of Marion's Daughter, she was sure to admit that she was quick to up and rush to Vera's side at once. Her family was not so concerned with her ability to care for herself anymore out in the world, only sinerilyh feeling the absence of their distance while apart. 

There wasn't any way she could have stifled her sharp intake no matter how much she had mentally prepared herself for this moment. How quickly could time have passed since she had last been to Rochester?

Pretty, caring, motherly eyes were perhaps the only thing left unchanged. The only thing that Estelle could recognize of Vera upon first glance. The woman had aged gracefully, her face becoming elegant with age, the wrinkle lines that carried through showed only the signs of a happy life.

When Estelle had received a letter from Vera, one that was few and far in between, as she had never been as close to the woman as her maman had ever been, she had been more than curious to visit the old neighbourhood where they had lived for a handful of moments compared the existence that she had kept.

Much had changed, yet all was startingly the same to Estelle.

Vera was now a grandmother, that much she knew before her arrival. Maman was fiercely proud of the happy life that her friend had lived, of the legacy that she had cultivated for herself in the form of her family.

The money that the Dupuis had left the little family, the house that they had gifted, had done them well as their wealth showed long after the family last had any true influence on them.

"Marion had warned that you would all look much the same, but I didn't think you would be unchanged," Vera says the words kindly, without any judgment.

Estelle steps into the home, bending slightly to press a la bise to the now older human. "I wasn't aware that you knew of our existence."

Vera's laugh is rough, hoarse. "Oh, why, she had told me the truth some twenty years ago. After the birth of my first grandson. I admit I was a bit pushy when it came to asking why you had no children yet. Marion was respectfully defence of the impossibility."

Dead heart spasming with a burst of annoyance, Estelle doesn't take the moment to go into heavy depth on why she would not have had children even if it was a possibility at the fear of overwhelming this poor old woman.

Estelle had never wanted children. Not when she was human, not when it was centuries later. They were annoying and sticky, they had all sorts of smells and robbed you of time, resources and attention. She had never needed a child to express her love to another person, and she had never desired to be wholly responsible for another person.

Truly, there were infinite lists that she could compile detailing all of the reasons that Estelle never wanted to have children.

"I suppose in another life," she says instead, allowing her voice to take on a whimsical property. "I am content with what it is that I have found for myself. There is still time for you to visit us in France. We have made homes all over the country, all over Europe. Mama would be thrilled to have you with us."

The rejection is loud before the words are spoken, the depth of sadness and longing sweeping through her eyes as they water.

Estelle imagines that had her mother asked years ago, Vera might have said yes. Marion probably could have gotten Vera to agree to change if she had only asked, but her mother would have never, no matter how much she would truly come to mourn her friend once she was gone.

"I was surprised when you had invited me to see you alone. I am aware that maman has come to see you over the years, but you had never solely asked for me."

The old woman's expression shutters, cheeks flushing a slight pink. At that moment suddenly appears even over then she already was. Something sad weighed her heart, aging her quicker than she should have to face.

"Tell me what pains you, Vera," Estelle pressed gently, "tell me what makes you so sad."

Vera swallowed thickly. "So many years have passed, Estelle, dear, and you are much the  same. Your mother speaks of your lifestyle with a careful indifference, but I can sense the sadness in her years. She misses y dear old friend Rosalie." 

Estelle steals herself, tensing at the cursed name. 

"Is the immortality truly so dim and empty?" Vera asks. 

Regarding the old woman, Estelle watches her closely as she considers the weight her answer could hold. The old could not survive the transformations, the strain on the their bodies at this age were dangerous, far more deadly to consider otherwise. 

"I am blessed with spending a supposed eternity with my family. I know that they will never leave me by choice and few people will ever be able to take them away," she says slowly. "I know that the hunger is difficult to leave with, as well as the supposed burden of the soul that some might be concerned with. I know that when you find love, then you will find love eternal. When you feel happiness it will be exquisite. I would not give up the experience that this life has given me." 

Vera smiles, one that brings out every line of happiness that has ever graced her face. Each line of laughter and joy is there for her to bear witness in a gesture that should not feel so intimate. 

Outside a car backfires. Vera's heart strains and races with the sudden burst of fear as she's startled. How fragile and quaint it was to be human. Estelle had forgotten how delicate it could be. 

"I wish that all could have the certainty and luck to have their family forever," Vera says with a voice growing thin, trembling. "Henry passed last week. My son. Gone with his wife in an accident." 

The young baby, the one that Estelle could remember her mother so fondly cradling in her arms so many years ago. "Oh Vera," she breathes. "You have my deepest condolences. I cannot image the pain you must be feeling." 

"It was unexpected. I know I am not long to join him." 

Estelle has the sudden wish that she could cry again. "Oh, Vera."

"I am so old now, Estelle. I have lived my life and have no allowed myself no regrets save one.

 "Tell me." 

"My grandson is seventeen. He has not lived his life yet," Vera explains with a drawing sense of conviction, "The doctors tell me he will likely not survive to the end of the month. Not two weeks yet. I cannot image that he should part this world before me." 

Unable to stop the implication of her words that ring through her mind, Estelle buries the them deep and meets the other woman's gaze firmly. She was never like her mother. She would need the questions asked firmly before she made any assumptions. 

"Tell me why you have asked me to come, Vera." 

"Thomas is a good boy. He's kind and smart, and he has so much that he has yet to do. Help him, Estelle." 

Estelle shakes her head softly, not in negation, as she thinks. She has never had to make such a choice before, never had to take such actions. For Vera, she might be able to. 

"Tell me how."

"Change him. Make him like you." 

"You say that the doctors do not think it will work." 

"I am willing to try." 

"You will likely never see him again." 

Vera sniffles. "I want him to live." 

It's silent for a long moment. "Take me to him." 

Hours later after a heavy, heart wrenching farewell from a grateful grandmother, Estelle pressed a kiss to Vera's forehead with the promise to telephone her with the outcome. 

And after listening patiently to the retreat of Vera's step back onto the street down below, Estelle escapes with an unconscious boy tucked under her arms from his hospital room window. She had only a few moments to get as far as she could, to a location totally secluded. 

Following Vera's directions through the new town layout, they finally stop at the outskirts of the abandoned factory. Hearing it to be empty, she ventures in to search the halls for a room with little echo. 

It had taken a matter of seven minutes to make the run. It took two to find a staff room with little acoustics. It took one for Estelle to steal her courage and take the plunge towards the boys neck. 

Never having changed a person before, having only had accidents and the phases over the years where she drank human blood opposed to animals,  Estelle found it hard to pull away as she should have. 

The call was difficult to ignore and as she ripped herself away, she slapped one hand over her mouth and the other over Thomas'. 

For an agonizing day and a half, she sat on her knees at his side with a hand firmly held over his mouth to silence his screams the best that she could. 

She had taken the time to examine her potentially new coven mate. He had a sweet face with soft skin. There were marks where his dimples would lay even as he screamed in agony. His eyes had once been a dark brown that started to now bleed into red as he inched closer to waking. His hair was thick and fluffy, a general brown sort. 

Thomas made a handsome human and an even handsomer vampire. He would make a fine Dupuis. 

When the screams finally stopped and the race of his heart started to beat sluggish, Estelle sat back to right her clothes. She positioned herself across the room and waited steadily. This would be the part most dangerous, as she was told from Carlisle so may years ago. 

He would be disoriented, confused. His strength wold make his dangerous. 

Estelle waited, poised. 

Thomas heart stopped. He did not shoot up awake, but slowly opened his eyes and turn his head to face her. 

"You're Estelle Dupuis," Thomas gasps. 

Intrigued, she grins. "Yes, and you've become a vampire." 

***

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2024-02-10